Sometimes befuddling but never boring, Rainbow Arabia is making music that ultimately sounds like no one else's.

Their debut album, Colour Trip, is more of a nostalgia trip as they delve deeply into shoegaze, dream pop, noise pop, and generally seem to be auditioning for a spot on the Creation roster between My Bloody Valentine and Ride.

Lasers offers more substance when the reins are loosened.

This is the work of a master guitarist who has taken his time to come up with a quality record.

The Majestic Silver Strings is one of those rare "supergroup" projects that works--as much by its understatement as its savvy choice of material and excellent performances.

There are moments when a few different "shades" of heavy are detected, including the beginning of the aforementioned "Shitlist" and the album-closer, "Lend Myself to the Night." However, for those who like excuse-free metal cranked to ten from beginning to end, DevilDriver have assembled one gnarly Beast for you.

Evans' fans will eat this up as welcome return to form. However, a more critical listen will reveal this set as a concession to Nashville's ever more restrictive, formulaic studio system.

If it won't change worlds, it's engaging enough for what it aims to be, and when "Bumper Car" hits a lower-voiced break over a clattering beat with an easygoing grace, the whole thing feels like even more of a treat that could turn even better with time.

If Rival Schools had returned and tried to sound like the same band they were in 2001, there would have been the very real danger of it feeling disingenuous and forced, as if they were trying to recapture their glory days. Instead, the band is more relaxed and confident, and not afraid to experiment a little.

If Long has captured the style necessary to make him the next New Dylan, he hasn't quite figured out the issue of lyrical content.

It wasn't necessarily all that great of a stylistic distance to traverse, but it's certainly been a pleasurable journey. And while there are quite a few extant non-album cuts that might have found space on a more slavishly inclusive comp, what is included here is pretty close to perfect.

Longtime Darkest Hour fans should be very pleased by this record; they continue to write good songs and perform them with commitment and power. Because of their consistency, though, this album would also make a great introduction to the band's catalog.

Listen to this album three or four times in quick succession and you'll hear something different each time; it's difficult to imagine growing tired of it.

It's rare that a band gets better after releasing a few albums; usually their initial inspiration gets used up and they are left foundering. Wye Oak have done it, and on Civilian, they insert themselves into the upper echelon of indie rock bands.

This broadening of the palette is as deliberate as Accelerate's reduction of R.E.M. to ringing Rickenbackers, and while it occasionally feels as if the bandmembers sifted through their past to find appropriate blueprints for new songs, there is merit to their madness.

In an age where angst is delivered with the subtlety of a laser light show, it's nice to hear some good, old-fashioned, smokin'-and-drinkin'-cheap-beers-on-the-porch-with-your-friends-style pessimism.

While it may not be the band's most ambitious or experimental work, Constant Future is a work of cohesive beauty, showing a real sense of vision in its execution that more than makes up for the lack of any gimmicks added in for art's sake.

Lavigne once again seems to be grappling with emotions just beyond her reach, never articulating her angst or crafting a melancholy melody, making Goodbye Lullaby feel affected, not genuine.

It's a melting pot to be sure, and the band has a tendency to go heavy on the atmosphere and light on the hooks, but there's never any doubt that it's a brew tended over by some awfully talented cooks.

Theoretically, this loosening of expectations would give him some freedom to roam on Musica + Alma + Sexo, and it does to the extent that he does not feel compelled to devote the record to the English language.

While the first ten songs would have made for a strong return on their own, the final three put Second Chance over the top as one of the year's best R&B albums.

Overall, it's a darker and more uneven album than the debut, but notwithstanding a few oddities (three reprises, and Arrington de Dionyso's Gregorian throat singing, namely), it's a respectable follow-up.

Fading Parade might be subtle, but it's obviously another step forward for Quever and company.

The 12 songs on Thrawn have been culled from six studio albums released between 2003 and 2009 (Anderson has released more than two dozen albums independently) and serve as an excellent introduction to his work.

Shea and Klauber's approaches are distinct; she favors shimmery electro-pop and cooing vocals that evoke Kate Bush as much as they do Olivia Newton-John, while he trades in earnest, earth-toned vocals and acoustic guitars.

Wilson and her band have created a wonderful and almost seamless set of music that explores a lot of territory and yet still keeps its cohesiveness.

A straight play, from start to end, the album thrives on the hypnotic rhythmic drive of Krautrockers like Neu!, with bulky synth riffs that make many of the songs sound like the intro to Van Halen's version of "Dancing in the Streets," or Jan Hammer's "Theme from Miami Vice," only beefed up, elongated, and entangled in guitar delays.

The rather aimless and derivative '90s drum'n'bass homage "Hocus Pocus" aside, No More Idols is a consistently impressive and intriguing listen that has the potential to be the drum'n'bass genre's defining studio album.